## If You Leave My House Hungry Tomorrow, It’s Your Own Fault

Math is a foreign concept to me.  I mean, I know what math is and I know the basics, but beyond that….

I’m clueless.

As in, I’m not sure how I made it through statistics, trigonometry, advanced algebra, or calculus with As.  Or how I held down a job in television where research and statistics were what I did on a full time basis.

Oh wait.  Yes I do.  I had super easy math teachers, great tutors, and the job?  There are computer programs to actually, you know, do the math.

Case in point.  I am working on a sewing project that required 48 4″x4″ squares of felt and I wanted three different colors.

In my head, that was ALOT of fabric.

As it turns out, the THREE yards of felt will make about 40 of this project. Which I learned after I cut them all out and then realized I simply needed 2 sq. feet of each color.

I have no business doing math.

How math ties in with Thanksgiving?

Well, I don’t exactly know how much to cook for 16 people.  Because servings sizes listed on the back of things?

They aren’t right.

For example, on the back of the Kroger brand sour cream and onion chips (the best chips. ever.) it says there are eleven servings in the bag which is a down right LIE!

There are two.

And so, because I am afraid there won’t be enough, I cook way more than I probably need to.

The list from the other day has grown… to now include Deviled Eggs (thanks to Julie because my kids read her comment and asked for those), a cheese tray (because there was some left over from the tray I made for church), pimento cheese (because I love Thing 1, 4, and the hubs) and brie.

(Is it brie or a brie? I don’t know.  Never heard of it until my sophisticated friend who’s into wine and hummus and stuff told me about it.  It sounded good.  I thought we’d need an appetizer – because clearly we don’t have enough food already – and so, after asking her where I even find brie in the grocery store, we’ll be having that tomorrow as well.)

Turns out the hubs knew what brie was.  So, I’m thinking since he knows what brie is and what a galette is — that he’s not the redneck he thinks he is.

Or, maybe I’m not as classy as I thought I was.

Either way…

Here’s what I do know.

No one should be hungry at the house of Chaos tomorrow. (Should being the operative word – and if they are?  There’s no blame on me.)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Until next time….

## The beauty of my city

I took this a few weeks ago while chaperoning a digital photography field trip. Of course now the leaves are changing but this view….those mountains…are things I never thought I could fall in love with.
I'm so glad I was wrong.
Until next time…

## Tennis Anyone?

I have tennis elbow.

Which is funny because I don’t play tennis.

It’s also known as golfer’s elbow or little league elbow…

and I don’t do any of those either.

Tennis elbow also typically appears in your dominant arm… which is my right arm.

My tennis elbow is in my left.

So here I am, with an elbow that kills and not really understanding how it happened.

The cure?

A big black band around my arm and Aleve twice a day…for 10 days.

The band is this big black honkin’ thing and it makes me look like part of Hitler’s Army.

You know, because it doesn’t go under any of my shirts.

I’m not totally sure if I’m supposed to wear it to bed or not.  I forgot to ask my doctor and so I googled it.  (Isn’t that your alternative to a doctor?)  The answered were mixed so I am not wearing it at night.  It’s not overly comfortable.

But I’m doing it… because the alternative is a shot… in my elbow and I don’t like needles.

Rules out a career in hard core drugs.

So here I am… my big black arm band trying to nurse my elbow back to health.

At least I get out of carrying in the groceries…

silver lining, right?

Until next time…

## Writing Prompts, Changes, and Me.

Fortunately, since I declared that I was just going to take the whole month of November and just write, I’ve had things to write about.  Not that it would ever be considered award-winning, but they were words, on the screen, for your consumption.

I even wrote a few ahead of time.  Of course, WordPress and my host want to do wonky stuff and not post them when I tell them to, but that’s another post for another time… you know, like when I figure it out.

Of course, who knows when that will be as I’m sitting on four websites that I’m working on… and you know what they say about the shoe maker’s kids…

Let’s just hope my kids don’t want a website any time soon…

Some days, I just don’t know what to write about… or I did know what to write about as I trekked across the country town to get my kids to and from school but by the time I got to a place where I could actually write it all out I had either lost the mood or the gist of what I want to say.  I’m not sure if that would be called writers block or just forgetfulness, but regardless, it kills me because I LOVE this here space.

It just makes me happy.

And I’m not a big fan of writing prompts.

Most of the time, they are corny.  But today’s?

It’s something that I’ve been meaning to blog about for awhile, but couldn’t seem to flesh it out to be more than a sentence.

Of course, I’m just about to blog post length with the intro as to why I’m not a fan of writing prompts and how I’ll used one today… so I’ve accomplished something.

But today’s writing prompt is:  If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

I’ve been telling people for years that if I could change just one thing, I’d want to be a morning person.  I want to be one of those people that arises at o’dark thirty, before the sun shines, and chipper.  I want to be one of those people who has no problem going to bed at 9pm so they can rise at 5am.

I want to be that person.

I want to have so much accomplished by the time the rest of the world wakes up that I feel accomplished.

Part of my reasoning is that if I were to wake up earlier there are a myriad of things that I could do, but mainly… write, quiet time, work… etc.  The house is quiet.  It’s the perfect conditions and?

There’s a finite amount of time to get things done before we have to get moving for school, work, etc.  When I wait to do everything at night, there’s no time limit.  I just keep going until I can’t go any more and sometimes?  That’s late.  Because I get distracted!

Plus, so often in the evenings, I have run here, there and everywhere, that I’m exhausted and don’t feel like doing much of anything so typically only what has to get done does.

Maybe I can become a morning person, but I doubt it.  I like my late nights way to much… and 5am has always been evil.

So what about you?  If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Until next time…

## Washing Machine Woes

Thursdays are my days off.  I use the term “off” loosely.

Because really, Thursdays are the day that I get caught up, or volunteer or do my Jesus work… just not in the office.

Today, I made hamburger patties for the Bubba Burger Burn at the school.  After hanging out with the Bubbas (the dad volunteers of the school), I headed to the food pantry where I volunteer and then headed to pick up Rhoda’s remains.

(I hate the word remains.  But ashes isn’t all that better either.)

Can I just admit something, right here?  Out loud?

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her.  I never thought that I would miss her this much… but I do.  Not only did we get a little box with her ashes but a little baggie with some of her fur, a little card and this…

If you’re local in Roanoke, and you have a pet, please consider Big Lick Vet.  They have been nothing short of amazing when it came to Rhoda.  And no, they didn’t pay me or give me anything to say that.  They are just amazing.

A quick glance at the clock and some not so quick math (curse you math genes for skipping a generation!) I realized that I had a little over an hour before I had to pick up the kids.

Decision time.

What to do for an hour and a half?  I could go home.  I could go to Target (after all, I have a gift card….oh, and you could have one, too if you wanted!).  I could go to the mall.

My life is just so happening.

After I went through all the reasons why I didn’t want to go home or to Target, I finally settled on the library.

My whole reasoning?  It was quiet.

And really?  My house would’ve been, too.

But it needs cleaning.

And they have coffee at the library. (and that’s exactly what I told the barista.)

So here I sit.

I don’t know that I’ve ever been to the library without the kids.  I attempted to find an audio book to listen to since I’m in the car a minimum of 90 minutes every day, but the one I knew I wanted they didn’t have… and then I decided that I needed something that would also be kid friendly.  And then I decided that I should just look online for something I can download to my phone, so that if I got into the book, I didn’t have to wait until I got in the car again… since I have no CD player in my house.

First world problems, I know.

I really probably should’ve gone home and attempted to clean up the mess in the basement.  The washer broke last night and there was water everywhere.  I’m thankful for a husband who took it apart and is getting the part we need today.  Otherwise, I would’ve been using this hour and a half to shop for a new washer.

The problem with the washer breaking is that I was already behind my weekly wash schedule.

(Not that anyone in the house cares but me…)

And, Thing 2 came down frantically needing her uniform washed for today.  Explaining that I was off duty for circumstances out of my control, she was none too happy.

“What will we do?  I NEED my uniform and it stinks,” she exclaimed.  I smelled it.  I was of the opinion that she could slide by with a little Febreeze but I guess when you’re playing in the regional tournament, you want it to be really clean.

Not just spray clean.

After convincing her that 9 at night was too late to ask the neighbors to borrow the washer I told her I would hand wash it.

“Hand wash?” her face had a quizzical expression.

“Yes.  Hand wash.  In the sink.  With some soap and water.  What do you think they did before washing machines?’

So, in the sink at 9:30 at night I hand washed her uniform.

And then I prayed that the part would be available today and that I could have my washing machine back.  It’s not anything spectacular, but as much as I love history, I don’t really want to relive the good ol’ days when it comes to our dirty clothes.

Nope.  I don’t.

I would, however, like to go back to the days when there were no cell phones, caller ID, call waiting or voice mail and answering machines…

but that’s another post for another day…

Until next time…